


Cornerstone

by tommytea



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Meetings, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Animal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pining, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, ronan lynch is a sensitive soul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-03-06 03:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13402074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommytea/pseuds/tommytea
Summary: Ronan never thought the universe would allow him to have good things.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> thank you, [ intertwiningsouls ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningsouls/pseuds/intertwiningsouls) for the beta and for encouraging me to keep writing this fic

Ronan never thought the universe would allow him to have good things.

As a child, he was quiet and shy. Which usually translated to being overlooked when it came to birthday invitations and sleepovers. As a young teenager, he had taken to acting out, which only meant that everyone in school had grown fearful of his unpredictable temper, which lead to more isolation.

Throughout all this, he still went to mass every week with his mother, father and brothers. Whenever the priest would go quiet, he would concentrate very hard and pray. He would pray for an easier life, for a best friend, for someone to look at him and not look away quickly after, as if afraid of him. He would visualize all of this, would feel like he could almost pluck it out of his mind’s eye and bring it to existence just by praying hard enough.

The first time he hangs out with Gansey, he thinks it’s a fluke. Gansey’s a new kid and soon he’ll hear that Ronan’s a freak, will hear about his temper and tomorrow he’ll pass by Ronan with a wan smile, and then start pretending he doesn’t exist.

Instead, Gansey comes back the next day, and the day after that. When Ronan asks on the exhale of a cigarette he had stolen from their math teacher, “Why’d you keep coming back? Haven’t you heard? Apparently, I’m the school psycho.” He passes the cigarette over to Gansey and hopes that Gansey can’t see how badly his hands are shaking, cant hear his pulse thundering in his body in anticipation.

“Yeah?” Gansey says, inhaling and making a face, “I’ll take psycho over milk-toast any day.” He winks, and it might have been suave and cool, if Gansey wasn’t also wincing at the same time, holding back a cough on the exhale.

Ronan snatches the cigarette back and he feels lighter, his heart thundering for an entirely different reason, “If you can’t handle the cigarette, then give it here, you asshole. You’re wasting nicotine is what you’re doing.”

Ronan gets a month of believing in good things. A month of going to mass, and thanking god, sending out prayer after prayer after prayer full of gratitude and hope.

Then, he wakes up on a spring day, goes outside and finds his father; recognizable not by his battered face, but by his hands, his watch, his clothes.

He stops going to church immediately.

*

After his father’s death, Ronan becomes known as Henrietta’s own psycho resident.

Where previously, he would act out by stealing a cigarette here and there, and having a smart mouth in class, he was now going to class drunk, if he even made it at all. He was street racing, throwing up in parking lots and passing out in random places.

He always woke up in Gansey’s place in Monmouth.

“Fuck,” He’d mutter, his stomach growling in warning of what was to come, “What the fuck happened last night?”

Gansey would look up from whatever book he was reading, give him a withering look and mutter, “You were street racing.”

“Did I win?” He’d smirk, his stomach rolling through some nausea.

“You almost died.”

“That would’ve been quite the event, can you imagine—” he’d start throwing up before the sentence was even finished.

Gansey would rush over, rub his back and mutter things like, “Fuck you Ronan. Fuck you for doing this to yourself.”

Rinse, repeat.

*

Ronan had stopped going home.

Whenever he would venture home, his mother would be crying, hunched over with Declan or Matthew patting her back. If it was a Matthew day, Ronan would receive a disappointed sort of look; the corners of Matthew’s lips turned down in an attempt to keep him from speaking. Matthew was only 14, and he had looked exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and smudged with a dark blue that only came from multiple nights of no sleep. Ronan had seen that same look reflected on his own face. If it was a Declan night, Ronan knew to expect a loud, angry, violent Declan, full of threats and promises of failure. That’s what he liked to call Ronan, a _failure_. Ronan would walk away scathed but not seriously injured. He would find another drinking hole and drink himself half to death again.

It was only when Declan threatened to cut off his inheritance that Ronan decided he had had enough of being threatened by his father’s money when the man himself was cold, six feet under, and would never come back to Ronan, that he decided to move out.

The decision to live with Gansey is not a difficult one.

*

His friendship with Gansey becomes sacred. Ronan looks at his life and realizes that it’s empty, that he officially has no one left but Gansey.

The thing is, Gansey has become Ronan’s rock. By default, this means he has seen Ronan through everything. By further default, this means that within the last year, Ronan has scarcely seen Gansey laugh.

So, when he enters his first chemistry class of the new school year, he falters, almost stumbles backwards at the look on Gansey's face. He's smiling _–_ no, he's _laughing_ , so full bodied, closed fist slamming on the marble tabletop, and suddenly Ronan remembers. Gansey is a boy full of light and joy, the wrinkle of worry on his forehead wasn't always there. The permanent downturn of his lips wasn't actually permanent. It only appeared when Ronan did.

Right now, Gansey was sitting with two boys; Noah Czerny, whose family was friends with the Lynches, who spent the entire time at Ronan’s dad’s funeral staring at Ronan with a frown, as if waiting for Ronan to break down. The other boy was new; Ronan had never seen him before. He had a mess of dirty blonde hair, and his uniform looked too small in some places, and too big in others.

Ronan doesn’t bother them, he doesn't make a single sound as he moves quietly to the back of the class.

When the teacher walks in, one of the boys, the one with the dirty blonde hair, and the raggedy stitched up Aglionby vest pats Gansey on the shoulder and moves his things off of Gansey’s desk. The other boy settles in on the chair besides Gansey, takes out his books and straightens up.

Ronan’s eyes track the boy with the dirty blonde hair. He watches as he attempts to sit with someone but is snubbed, an already sitting boy quickly puts his books on the stool next to him. The blonde boy’s face changes, only for a second shifting from hurt to embarrassment and then back to normal. He walks slowly past other students, looking to their faces anxiously until he gets to Ronan, who chooses not to look at him at all. The boy slowly places his books on the marble tabletop.

“Adam Parrish,” the boy says once he’s settled.

Ronan looks at him fully then. Sees the tattered edges of his sleeves, the mismatched buttons of his school uniform, his torn unkempt nails, and up, up, up, to his face. Even his face seems to be smudged with freckles, but his jaw is square and strong, his eyes clear and blue. This somehow makes Ronan’s resentment grow.

“Didn’t ask,” Ronan says.

He looks away just as the boy deflates, his whole body curving inwards.

*

Ronan’s still bitter come lunchtime, but he doesn’t say anything to Gansey, who sits next to him and talks about how glad he is that Ronan’s putting in the effort to show up to classes on time and sober up this semester.

Ronan’s mood sours further when he looks up to find Parrish walking towards them, lunch tray in hand.

"Ugh," he mutters lowly, “Who invited trailer trash?"

Gansey steps on his toes under the table and firmly whispers, "Be nice." Out loud he says, "Adam, get over here, man. How's your first day at Aglionby going?”

Adam looks at Ronan apprehensively and smiles weakly at Gansey, “This is the nicest school I’ve ever been to,” he looks around like he can't believe he's made it to the hell hole that is Aglionby Academy, “But I don’t think anyone here really likes me..." he finishes weakly.

Ronan scoffs loudly and Gansey elbows him hard, “Sorry about him," Gansey says with a smile, “This is Ronan, by the way,”

“We’ve met,” Adam mutters at his food.

“Grossman’s fucking gone and made us lab partners,” Ronan says, rolling his eyes upwards as if making sure god knows how unfair this is.

Gansey just shakes his head at Ronan’s dramatics before his eyes land on Czerny and suddenly he's invited to their table as well.

*

Ronan has always known that he was selfish, even when it came to relationships, and especially when it came to Gansey.

But he decides that to be selfish, he needs to share. He’d rather share than not have Gansey at all.

This is what he tells himself every time Noah and Parrish join them for lunch, every time they decide to come home with them to Monmouth and every hour Ronan spends alone because Gansey wanted to go out with them instead of stay at Monmouth with Ronan.

*

It becomes normal to hang out as a group, but Ronan still avoids Noah and Parrish as much as possible. However, this becomes more and more difficult as the weeks go by. For starters, Parrish is his assigned lab partner for the rest of the year. And for some reason unfathomable to Ronan, Parrish actually cares about his grades. This means that by the end of the first month of the semester, Parrish suggests that they meet up after school to work on their lab report.

“Why?” Ronan asks, "that shit isn't due for another month.”

“It’s due in two and a half weeks actually,” Parrish says as he follows him out of the classroom. His steps are quick and heavy as he chases an elusive Ronan, "Also, we don't all have all the time in the world to waste like you, Lynch."

And it's the way he says _Lynch_ , almost spitting it out with the same disdain Declan uses when he says _failure_ that makes Ronan stop dead in his tracks. He turns around quickly, “Alright then, meet me at the parking lot after school." He says then turns around quickly, cigarette already making an appearance as he pushes his way out of the sliding doors and into the green field behind the school.

At 2:45PM sharp, Ronan finds Parrish outside in the parking lot, just like he'd asked.

“Where’s your ride?” Ronan asks, looking around.

“I walked," Parrish says.

“All the way from the trailer park? No shit. What happened to your car?” He asks as he unlocks his car.

“I never had a car,” Parrish says through clenched teeth, “When, in the whole month that we've known each other, have you seen me drive a car?”

Ronan turns on the car and thinks about it for a minute while Parrish buckles up, “You know what, Parrish, you're right, I just never cared enough to notice," he turns towards him, and grins fully in the way that Gansey specifically hates. It's all teeth with no warmth in the eyes, no real mirth, only mocking.

Parrish looks back fuming, and whispers something along the lines of “Rich, pompous asshole."

This only makes Ronan grin harder the rest of the way back.

*

They continue in this manner for a couple of weeks.

Parrish rides home with Ronan three times a week. Sometimes Ronan will be amiable and they'll get a good portion of their report done. Other times, Ronan will be in a _mood_ and he'll laze around and watch Parrish work while he bitches at Ronan for not putting in any effort on _their_ – and he'll remind Ronan constantly – _group_ work. On those days, Ronan will lie down on the couch, while Parrish sits on the floor in front of him, his papers, textbooks and folders spread out on the coffee table and Ronan will stare at the back of Parrish's neck. He'll count the freckles and stare at the curve of his neck and wonder what it is he’s feeling when he stares at that smooth expanse of skin, what it means when his mind wanders enough for his own skin to feel heated – he’ll try to analyze why those small, private pieces of Parrish are so interesting to him.

Perhaps it is because of his obsession with Adam’s neck that this happens:

He’s late coming into the cafeteria, the boys are loud and the place stinks of oil and deep fried foods. He spots Gansey first, and then realizes that he's hunched over the lunch table in front of him, his head bowed close to Parrish's head, and they’re deep in a hushed conversation. Something flares up in Ronan and he can't tell what is causing this feeling; it could be the pinched, pissed off look that Gansey is sporting, it could be the completely unguarded way Adam is looking at Gansey – and for a moment, Ronan wonders why he's never been on the receiving end of that type of look from him, why Adam guards himself so much around Ronan.

He doesn't get to analyze that thought as he approaches them. He's standing behind Adam when he realizes the purpling bruise that looks like its spreading from Adam’s shoulder blade and bleeding into the back of his neck. He hooks a finger on the collar of Adam's shirt and pulls it down to reveal the impressive size of the bruise.

“The fuck is this?” He asks, just as Adam jumps up from his seat.

“Nothing,” Adam says as he stands up. He quickly pulls his collar forwards, and buttons it to the top while he storms out of the room.

“What the fuck." Ronan whispers as he looks at Gansey.

Gansey rubs at his frowning mouth, "Just leave it, Ronan.” He mutters.

Ronan drops into the newly vacated seat and the unpleasant feeling in his stomach grows. For one, he doesn't like how cold his body felt at seeing a bruise that size on Adam – and when did that happen? But now maybe he understands better why Adam guards himself around Ronan and his big mouth, and his intrusive nature.

*

The next day is the final day before the report is due and Ronan keeps clenching and unclenching his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes shifting from the road, to Adam, and back to the road again.

“If you have something to say, just spit it out already. Waiting you out is exhausting…” Adam says, though he’s staring out the window as he does.

Ronan stares at the road and swallows, and god. God. Why is this so painfully difficult? “Who hurt you?” He asks softly.

Adam snorts, “I tell you and what do you do?”

Ronan stares at his own knuckles, bruised pink and his skin broken on his right hand, “Hurt them back – that’s something I could be good for…”

Adam’s body fully turns towards Ronan, but he looks like he’s humoring him, “And why would you do that?”

“We’re—” He clears his throat, “We’re friends, that’s what we do, right?” His eyes shift back towards Adam, who has a confused look about him.

“Well, this is news to me, I did not know we were friends, I always thought we were more like acquaintances, lab partners, friends of friends – at most – but _friends_?”

For a second, the word _failure_ flashes in Ronan’s mind but when he looks at Adam, he sees that the other boy is grinning, his cheek softly dimpling as he stares at the road ahead.

“What do I have to do, Parrish? Draw up a contract? Buy you a friendship bracelet?” He asks, and there’s that lightness again. A feeling Ronan had gotten exactly once before, years ago, while sharing a cigarette with Gansey.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you [ intertwiningsouls ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningsouls/pseuds/intertwiningsouls) for beta-reading this chapter and helping me figure some things out. 
> 
> warning in this chapter for off-screen animal abuse.

Ronan Lynch’s most prized possession is his car; bought and fully paid for with a stolen cheque when he was 16, much to Declan’s annoyance.

When the cheque went through, Ronan had accepted the call from Declan in the BMW showroom on full speaker and signed all the required paperwork while the whole room had looked on with discomfort.

It was probably the best day of his life.

Even now, as he sat, stalled on the side of the road, he could not bring himself to regret even a second of that day. He had tried pulling the hood up, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what needed to be done. The sweltering heat didn’t help neither the car nor himself, and for once Ronan had wished that he was as attached to his cell phone as everyone else. As it were, he was stuck on the side of a long road, no cell phone, no car and nowhere to go.

He is lounging on the hood of his BMW in his school trousers and his undershirt when Adam finds him. His Aglionby shirt is shoved under his head as a makeshift pillow while the sun slowly dips behind him.

“Car broke down?” Adam asks with amusement as he gets off his bike.

Ronan opens one eye to only barely look at Adam, “Just thought I’d even out my tan on the side of the road, actually.”

Adam snorts, “Gansey’s pissed at you, you know.” He shoves at Ronan’s leg until he rolls over and off of the car.

Ronan picks up his Aglionby shirt off the windshield and uses it to wipe his face and arms before throwing it to the top of the car, “That’s new.” He mutters as he moves towards Adam’s bike.

Adam is in the BMW, fiddling with the buttons and tabs under the steering wheel, “You missed school and wouldn't answer your phone. He thought you’d died, which—” He stuck his head out the door, his eyes falling on Ronan as he smirks, small and secretive, “Is he always that dramatic?”

Ronan finds his own lips twitching, “He means well…”

Adam huffs out a laugh and pulls on a lever to pop the hood of the car.

Ronan couldn’t help it if his eyes only wanted to track Adam’s movements; the way his body unfolds as he stands up and out of the car. Adam in school is a little more hunched over, a little bit more timid and insecure, but right now, on the side of the road with no one to watch him but Ronan, he stands at his full height while moving around the car. His steps are sure and confident as he unbuttons his sleeves and rolls them up to reveal perfectly tanned, toned forearms before he gets to work under the hood. His eyes trace Adam’s features as they focus on the insides of the car where his hands are working, and Ronan blames the heat of the day for how difficult it is to breathe in.

“You like cars.” Ronan realizes that this might be the first real thing he knows about Adam.

Adam hums in affirmation, “Some more than others,” He smiles up at Ronan. “When its Barrington Whelk bringing in his beat up jalopy to the garage, there’s only so much I can do. But this?” Adam makes a gesture with his hands as if he is showing off something grand, “Look at her—”

Ronan looks at his car — the scratched bumper, the dried streaks of mud on the bottom of it, the mismatched rims. He looks back up at Adam, whose eyes are wide, and smile is even wider.

“ _This_ is just beautiful.” Adam finishes.

Ronan is tempted to agree.

*

Ronan knows what it means when he can’t stop looking at Adam.

He recognizes his need to touch. He feels it like a _hunger_ ; watching the way Adam’s eyes scan over a book as he reads, the light bouncing off his blonde eyelashes, surrounding his eyes with gold, making him look ethereal and otherworldly. The way his cheeks twitch, holding back a smile like a secret every time he learns something new.

Sometimes his own fingers twitch, wanting to reach out and trace his cheeks, the dip of his cupid’s bow, his mouth.

He never does.

*

It used to be that when Ronan left Monmouth, he would drive around, find people to race, get drunk with, fuck. Now, he just drives. Sometimes he’ll go to church, when he knows no one else would be there. He’ll sit down where he used to sit with his family — his dad’s favorite section of the pews; right in the middle. But he doesn’t talk to God — got tired of asking and asking and asking and getting nothing in return.

It’s one of those nights when he falls asleep in the pews and wakes up to a loud obnoxious wailing. It takes some looking for, but when he eventually finds the source of the wailing, it’s a small black kitten, its eyes crusted shut, half of its fur matted, the rest burned off into an angry red blistering wound.

“Jesus,” He mutters, looking around. When it’s obvious that he’s alone, he picks the cat up slowly with the sleeve of his shirt and leaves.

*

This is how Gansey finds him at 2AM:

Tearing through an old shirt with a giant pair of yellow scissors while a small angry kitten screams on his bed.

“What the fuck,” Gansey says.

“Get some ice,” Ronan says without looking up.

Gansey throws Ronan’s phone, which had been clutched in his hands, on the bed, startling the kitten and walks out.

He comes back with an ice tray and a dish of water.

“Again,” He says pointing at the kitten that is now surrounded by rags of what was once Ronan’s shirt, “What the fuck.”

Ronan pops an ice cube out of the tray and wraps it in a rag. He slowly presses it to the worst of the burns. He finally looks at Gansey, his eyes tired and mouth curling down into a frown, “Found her outside.”

“Shit…” Gansey breathes.

“Some sick fuck probably had his fun with her and threw her out when she wouldn't stop screaming,” His hands are shaking with barely contained anger.

Gansey deflates and sinks down onto Ronan’s study desk. He rubs at his eyes wearily and mutters something under his breath which sounds a lot like _fuck this world._

*

The vet receptionist doesn’t hold back her wince when she asks for a name to put down in the system and Ronan says, “ _Chainsaw_ , cause she won’t stop screaming like a goddamned banshee.”

*

Gansey has taken a liking to one of the girls that work at the diner 20 minutes from Monmouth, so he’s taken it upon himself to invite them all for lunch every Saturday.

Ronan is sprawled in the front seat of Gansey’s car with his legs on the dashboard when Noah and Adam show up.

Noah opens the door and immediately frowns, “What _is_ that sound?” he says as he takes a seat behind Ronan.

Adam pulls himself up between the two front seats as Ronan holds up Chainsaw, bandaged with rags of cloth and screaming for attention.

“Chainsaw,” Ronan says.

Adam huffs out a breath against Ronan’s ear and reaches for the kitten, “Are cats allowed at the diner?” He asks as he sits back and tucks the kitten between the folds of his ratty t-shirt.

Gansey shoves Ronan’s legs off his dashboard and hums as he pulls out into the main road, “Uhh— I guess we can hide it?”

Noah looks between the three of them in disbelief, “So, I guess we’re pretending like this is normal? Okay then.”

On the drive to the diner, it takes every part of Ronan’s will to keep his eyes on the road instead of drifting back to Adam. And when he does find himself looking back, he tells himself it has nothing to do with the adoring look Adam gives the cat, and everything to do with the cat itself.

*

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Ronan is aware that he is compiling a small list of things that Adam likes. Currently, this is the list:

      1. Cars
      2. Chainsaw



The third is something Ronan discovers at the diner, with a slow and sinking feeling in his stomach.

*

“The cat has to go,” The waitress says.

“Oh, come on,” Gansey says, “She’s not hurting anyone. Where do we even put her?”

The waitress shrugs, “I would love to help you out, but if my boss finds out, I’m gonna be the one getting screwed over.”

Adam’s whole body shifts towards her, “Please, Blue.” He says, eyes earnest, “She won’t make a sound, I promise.”

The waitress looks at Adam and deflates, like she just can’t help but give into him. She looks around conspicuously and lowers her voice, “Alright, fine—” she ruffles Adam’s hair playfully before turning her voice strict again, “—but if she makes a sound, you’re all out.” She hands them their menus and leaves the table.

Ronan watches the way Adam ducks his head, smiling, proud of himself, and Ronan feels his own chest getting tighter.

*

The thing is, Ronan does not know what he wants from Adam.

He knows that it makes him feel some kind of heat in the pit of his stomach whenever Adam smiles, soft and quiet, like no one is supposed to see — like its a secret only Ronan knows.

What he doesn't like is when someone else is the reason he ducks his head and smiles his secret smile.

*

“Hey,” Ronan says, when Adam walks out of school a couple of days later, “You busy?”

Adam looks around, confused then looks at his watch, “Not till six, I guess…”

Ronan throws his keys at him, which Adam catches, “Ok, I need you for something, you’re driving.”

Adam looks at the BMW with something like awe in his eyes.

Ronan leads them to a long stretch of empty road, decorated with curved skid marks from nights of racing.

“Ok, park it on the side here.” Ronan says, opening the door when the car has come to a complete stop.

Adam climbs out of the car with him and follows him to the trunk of the car where Ronan pulls out a dolly he found outside the church — really, it’s just a piece of junk, a wooden square with four working wheels that he ties up to the back of the car.

“Let’s try something out.” He says before stepping into the dolly and wrapping the ropes around his hands.

Adam looks at him like he’s completely insane, but then there’s that smile again, a little secret he shares with Ronan before getting back into the driver’s seat.

*

They end up experimenting for the better part of two hours, with different speeds, switching out who gets to drive, and how to turn without completely flipping the person on the dolly.

By the end of it, Ronan has a couple of scrapes on his arms and elbows from flying off, and Adam looks like he stood in the middle of a sandstorm — his clothes dusty and torn, his hair sticking up in odd places from the wind, but his eyes shining with mirth and absolute joy.

Ronan figures he doesn’t mind it if Blue makes him smile, as long as this look; the hair, the eyes, the hoarse voice from all the screaming and whooping, are all for Ronan alone.

*

They go back to Monmouth so that Adam can get a change of clothes and a shower before his shift, and Ronan offers their washer and dryer to clean out his uniform.

“What did you do to him?” Gansey asks, but there’s no real heat behind his words.

“He’s fine,” Ronan says when Adam comes out of the bathroom in Ronan’s borrowed pants and shirt, and goes straight to Chainsaw, whose purrs fill up their entire apartment when Adam pets her.

“Thanks for the clothes,” Adam says when Ronan comes near him, “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

Ronan looks at the way his clothes look on Adam, a bit on the tight side, but completely hugging the curves of his shoulders and biceps, “Keep them,” he says before his eyes land on the rope burn on Adam’s wrists from where he tied the ropes earlier. Ronan doesn’t know what comes over him, but somehow he blinks and one Adam’s wrists is held between two of his own hands. He swipes his thumbs gently on the red bruises and has to clear his throat before whispering: “Sorry — about all this…” he wants to bring Adam’s wrists up to his mouth and—

He looks up to find Adam staring at him, a completely different redness covering his throat and working its way up to his jaw. His hands move away from Ronan slowly, first tangling his fingers with Ronan’s for a second and then letting go completely.

Adam looks away. “Don’t worry about it,” He smiles, his ears turning pink. He hands Chainsaw over to Ronan before leaving their apartment with a slow wave to Gansey.

“Wow…” Gansey says when the door shuts, “I don’t know what that was, but wow.”

Ronan throws an entire couch cushion at him and goes into his room with Chainsaw, slamming the door behind him.

*

Things could’ve been fine after that. They could’ve gone back to “normal” and Ronan would’ve been fine, really.

Except, not really.

Now Ronan knows what Adam looks like smirking at him throughout lunch, and the way his eyes look when he’s looking up at Ronan from underneath his lashes, or the way his jaw reddens before the rest of his face anytime he’s pleased with himself for making the group laugh — and these are not things that Ronan can _ignore_ or pretend he never noticed, no, these are now things that Ronan _thinks about_ actively throughout the day.

And then, Adam shows up at the diner in Ronan’s shirt, and Ronan somehow feels like he’s looking at the sun; bright and larger than life, breath-taking up-close.

He gets stopped by Blue almost as soon as he enters. Blue, talking to Adam in hushed voices at the front door runs her hand over his chest and laughs about something, making Adam flush into a deeper red. She points over at Ronan and Adam nods and whispers something back to her.

And Ronan understands.

He gets it.

Life doesn’t always give you what you want and in this case, Adam is on the other side of the diner talking to someone else, and Ronan can’t stand himself for how he feels. He can’t stand the way his chest constricts, or the sudden lump in his throat telling him that Adam deserves _this;_ deserves someone who will make him laugh and someone who is _good_ — essentially, someone who isn’t Ronan.

And Ronan is okay with this, in some strange way, he’s accepted it before Adam even makes it to their booth. What he isn't okay with is staying there, watching it happen again. So he stands up just as Adam comes to sit next to him and walks out.

*

Ronan is woken up by Chainsaw softly landing on his chest. He opens his eyes, still disoriented, to find Adam sitting on the floor between the church pews.

“Gansey figured you’d be here…” He says, quietly, like he’s afraid someone might hear them.

“What time is it?” Ronan asks, looking around at the darkened church. The only bit of light looks artificial and is filtered through the stained glass windows and falls right on Adam, illuminating half his face in purples and reds.

“Almost 1am,” Adam whispers.

A silence falls over them, interrupted occasionally by Chainsaw’s purrs.

“You kinda left me back there,” Adam says, looking down at his hands.

Ronan snorts, “I thought that’s what you wanted, some alone time with Blue…” Ronan slowly sits up, putting Chainsaw down next to him.

“Grow up, Ronan.”

“Fuck off, Parrish,” Ronan says. He holds his aching head in his hands and wills the whole world around him to disappear.

“I hate the way you say that,” Adam whispers. Ronan looks up to watch him, “ _Parrish_ ,” He says, his voice harsh and venomous, “Like I’m beneath you.”

Ronan snorts again, closing his eyes. He rubs his own fingertips over his shaved head, while he turns a name over and over again in his head.

“Adam,” He says, voice dark and hoarse from hours of not speaking. “Adam,” He says again, longer, stretching the syllables, tasting every letter. “There is no universe where I am anywhere near your level. There is no universe—” He looks up because he wants Adam to understand this, he _needs_ him to understand _,_ but just as he looks up, Adam pushes up to his knees, grabs Ronan’s thighs and pushes himself up to cover Ronan’s mouth with his own in a slow, lingering kiss.

Adam pulls away, “I’m—sorry, I just—”

Ronan shakes his head, stunned, reaches out, curls his fingers in Adam’s hair and pulls him back in, “Come back, come back.”

Adam shuffles forward with his knees on the floor, filling the space between Ronan’s legs while Ronan buries his head against Adam’s neck.

For a moment, he just breathes, in and out, while Adam breathes with him, more shaky, his breaths hitching with every other intake.

Ronan slowly pulls back and pushes his mouth against Adam’s, slowly, tentatively, almost as if testing how much he’s allowed to take.

When he pulls back, Adam’s eyes are still closed, his face still colored in the purples and reds of the stained glass, and Ronan can’t help but push his mouth against the the hollow at the base of Adam’s neck, his tongue tasting Adam’s pulse, moving up, up, up, below his right ear. He moves back, looking at Adam, his parted lips, his eyes hazy eyes as he looks back up at Ronan.

Adam pushes upwards, trying to get another kiss, but Ronan holds him back. He dips his tongue in Adam’s mouth, just barely touching Adam’s lips before turning his head and moving onto the other side of Adam’s neck.

Adam makes a sound, somewhere in between a laugh and a groan, “Fucking tease.”

Ronan tuts, pulling away, “Adam,” He says, long and teasing, just to hear another hitch in Adam’s breath. “We’re in a house of God, you need to watch your mouth.”

Adam growls. He bunches his fingers in Ronan’s collar and pulls him into another kiss that Ronan can’t help but laugh into.


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd, so I apologize for any typos or mistakes.
> 
> warning for onscreen abuse in this chapter.

Growing up, Adam Parrish was always painfully aware of how little he had.

His mother would always say, “You have your beautiful mind, and that’ll get you very far.”

She doesn’t say stuff like that now, after years of suffering through the abuse of his father, she barely even speaks.

Adam keeps those words in mind, though. 

He keeps them in mind when he applies to his second and third jobs, and tries to save money. 

He keeps them in mind when he applies to Aglionby Academy, and gets half a scholarship.

_Very far_ , his mother had said, and he looks at the intimidating size of the school, the large hallways and the state-of-the-art equipment. Compared to his house, on the other side of Henrietta, surrounded by stretches of empty desert land, Aglionby Academy is the farthest he can go without actually leaving home.

_Very far_ also applies to the people he meets in Aglionby Academy. People like Gansey, with his immaculate sense of style with his fitted polos, and practically tailored pants. Noah Czerny, and his clever, dry wit and his perfect Hollywood smile. 

And Ronan.

Ronan, which Adam had taken to call his First Aglionby Academy Mystery. Ronan, with his shaved head, and tall, almost intimidating figure. Ronan, who will smile at him when he teases him, then tell him to _fuck off_ when there’s a moment of connection. Ronan, who saves half burnt kittens and then affectionately names them Chainsaw, or the occasional _little shit_. 

Ronan, who kissed him back at 1AM in a darkened church.

*

“Adam!” Blue says when he shows up for his shift at the diner the next afternoon. She’s carrying two trays filled of all kinds of foods that Adam wouldn’t even think of paying for. “Perfect timing, “ She says, before lowering her voice, “Table 5 is full of asshole Raven Boys — I’ll take them off your hands if you tell me what happened with you and lover boy last night.”

“I’m good.” He says, tying off his apron and working his way over to table 5. 

“Fine, be boring!” She says as he walks away.

Adam introduces himself to the boys and they all smirk at each other, and Adam knows what this means. This means they’re all here to confirm that Aglionby Academy’s trailer trash boy works at a diner after school.

“We knew you were struggling, Parrish, but to work at a trashy place like _this_?” One of the boys says.

Adam takes a deep breath in.

“I mean, if you’re hurting for some cash, all you have to do is _ask_ , Parrish.” The other one says. The boys fall over themselves laughing like this is the best joke any of them had ever heard.

“I’ll just give you guys a couple of minutes to look over the menu.” Adam says and walks away.

*

“Absolutely disgusting,” Blue says as she helps him clear out table 5, an hour later.

The table has drinks spilled over it and on the floor, unfinished food and a mountain of wet, soppy paper towels.

“Like they were raised by fucking apes,” Adam says.

“I was talking about you and Ronan, but sure, this too.” Blue says on a laugh.

Adam could feel his neck heating up at the memory. “You’re one to talk. Hey, how’s Gansey doing?”

Blue laughs, “You know nothing’s happening there. He’s just so—“

“Dreamy?” Adam asks, his voice a poor imitation of a breathy harlequin novel heroine.

Blue snorts, “He wishes. I was going to say _full of himself_.”

Adam shakes his head, “Not Gansey. He’s the sane one, he’s just trying to impress you.”

“He’s not doing a good job of it.” Blue says, wiping the table down one last time.

“Clearly.” Adam says, standing up with a tray full of trash.

“Hey, what are you doing Saturday night?” Blue says, changing the subject.

“Homework, then actual work.”

“You’re no fun now that _you’re_ a Raven Boy. We used to hang out, Adam. We used to be real friends.” She pretends to be upset.

“Fine. What do you want to do?”

“Yes!” She says, stretching out the S so the word lasts 5 seconds instead of 1.

*

The next time Adam sees Ronan, he doesn’t know what to expect.

Ronan is lazing on the couch, pillows bunched up under his head, reading a book while Adam and Gansey battle things out on Gansey’s new PS4.

Gansey’s phone rings and he looks over at Ronan, “Hey, Ronan, watch this,” He says. He swipes his phone to answer the call, “Wow, that didn’t take any effort, or time. See how easy it is to pick up a ringing phone?” He’s laughing as he leaves the room, even as Ronan throws a pillow at him.

Adam looks back at the pause screen, but Ronan says, “Hey, get over here for a second.” 

Adam moves to the couch and Ronan wastes no time with putting his hands on him. His touch is hesitant at first, starting at his shoulder.

“Can I—” Ronan says, voice quiet.

Adam doesn’t even let him finish his sentence, already nodding, “Yes.”

Ronan reaches out with his fingers at first, dragging along Adam’s neck, tugging on his ears. He slowly pulls him towards his body, his fingers now tangling in Adam’s hair.

“So fucking pretty when you blush,” He says before he kisses him.

Gansey finds them tangled together on the couch a moment later. 

“No, no. I didn’t need to see this!” He says.

Adam pulls away, tries to get his breathing under control but Ronan sits up and starts throwing more pillows at him, “Get the fuck outta here then!”

“Going, I’m going!” Gansey says.

The second the door shuts, Ronan is pulling Adam on top of him again.

*

There are some things that Ronan just does not understand, so Adam knows to be careful around him. 

When Ronan spreads his hands under Adam’s shirt, he knows to laugh, grab his wrists and pull away before Ronan can lift his shirt up.

When Ronan squeezes his arm too hard, Adam knows not to wince — not to show any sign of pain.

He stands shirtless in front of his bathroom mirror one Sunday morning, poking at the slowly healing bruise on his right bicep, he _knows_ that Ronan just will not understand; will see how weak he is, how much of a coward Adam truly is.

A loud banging on the door startles him and he scrambles to put his shirt on. He checks himself over in the mirror one last time, tugs his shirt sleeve down lower to cover the fading bruise and decides to change into a uniform with longer sleeves.

The banging on the door gets louder and Adam opens the door to see his father, tall, bulky, almost hulking over him with a cigarette in his mouth and sweat stains all over his white shirt.

“Spend enough time on your hair this morning, princess?” He snarls.

Adam takes in a deep breath and tries to squeeze between his father’s large frame and the doorway and into the living room. 

His father follows him laughing, “Stop being so goddamn sensitive, a man can’t even make a joke in his own house?” 

Adam stares at his own hands while he ties his shoelaces.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you.” His voice is louder, closer, and Adam can already tell by the tone of his voice what kind of a day to expect.

“You can.” He says. He’s glad his voice doesn’t shake or tremble like it used to when he was younger.

He laughs, sits down on the couch and puts his cigarette out in a filthy, large, glass ashtray. “My truck, keeps makin’ some clanking noise every time I turn it on.”

Adam is still looking at his own hands when he answers, “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Why? Where you going?”

“I’ve got an early shift at the diner.”

“That fucking diner, always got something to do somewhere else, always fucking busy, and for what? You think you’re ever gonna get out of this place?”

Adam looks up just as his mom walks into the room. She’s timid, her eyes glance over everything slowly. She’s uninterested; she’s seen this scene a million times, seen worse, been through worse.

“You’re the one that wanted me to pay my own tuition.”

His father’s voice is getting louder, more agitated, his words are making less sense and Adam is so close to the door, so close to leaving but he stays rooted in place.

“Think you’re better than us? I can call the school right now, have them pull you out, and then what? Huh?”

Adam lifts his eyes, looks his father in the eye and says, “You can’t do that.”

Adam is watching him, but he still doesn’t quite see it coming until the ashtray has already hit his face and he’s on the floor, on his hands and knees, blinking wetness from his eyes, watching as blood mixes with cigarette ash under him. He looks up just in time to see his mother, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes tearing up as she leaves the room.

He stands up slowly, and picks up the ashtray with shaky hands. He puts it down on the closest table and walks out of the house.

*

On the ride over to the diner Adam breathes slowly and deeply and thinks; _I fell over, I fell from my bike, I got into a fight, an accident at the garage, a car hit me._

He gets to the diner walks straight into the single bathroom in the back and texts Blue, _Bring extra shirt to bathroom now._

He looks at himself in the mirror, his face a mess of blood, the whites of his eyes red with burst blood vessels, and his eye socket swollen just below his left eye. He quickly turns on the tap water to the coldest it’ll go and takes off his shirt. He folds it messily and stuffs it in the back of the small maintenance cabinet, behind rolls of toilet paper and cleaning supplies. He puts his face under the running water, which gets rid of most of the blood. He looks at himself again, and this time he can see the source of the blood is right above the swelling, on the side of his left eye, where the ashtray collided with his face is an open wound. He’s just pulling paper towels out of the dispenser when Blue walks in.

“Holy fucking shit, what happened?” She says in a forced whisper, as if the customers are going to hear her, or care.

Adam wets the paper towel and puts it on his eye, trying to hide the bleeding, or stop the puffiness, or just do something so she doesn’t have to look at him with pity.

“Fell off my bike, landed on my face.” He says.

She winces sympathetically and pushes the extra shirt to his chest, “Give me a second,” She says and walks out.

She comes back with a first aid kit, tries her best to clean the wounds and apply bandages to the hold the open wound together.

“This isn’t what falling off your bike looks like.” She says softly.

“Not now, Blue.” He knows there’s desperation in his voice. He looks at himself and now, with a new shirt and the blood off his face, he feels presentable. He almost starts laughing right then at how low the bar is, but instead he just thanks her, quietly and walks out to start his shift.

*

“Why do you let him do this to you?” Gansey asks the next day in school.

“Let him?” Adam asks. He’s been rearranging his locker since the bell rang. Pulling books out, putting them in a different way, keeping his hands busy and his face out of view. “Like I just put my face in front of his fist, or?”

“You know that’s not what I mean. None of this is on you, I’m just saying, you could leave. You could always stay with us.”  
Adam sighs. 

The worst part about about being in this situation, Adam decides, is that after the hurt and confusion fades, he is still stuck justifying himself to everyone around him. 

He doesn’t have enough breath in him to explain.

*

Adam makes it to Latin before the second bell rings and puts his head down on his folded arms. He’s contemplating skipping out on the rest of the day when familiar fingers card through his hair.

“Thought I saw you running in here,” Ronan says.

Adam looks up at him and it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. 

Ronan’s eyes go over his face, multiple times, cataloging, memorizing.

A moment passes and the silence stretches on, and Adam finally gets enough air in his lungs and says, “You’re not going to ask?”

Ronan looks at him a bit longer, calculating, “Do you want me to ask?”

Adam sets his chin on his folded arms and shakes his head, “Not today.” 

Ronan nods slowly. He touches Adam’s face, just where the swelling stops, “Get up.” He says suddenly, “Fuck Latin, get up.” He says, pulling Adam up with him.

*

Adam does end up skipping out on the rest of the day. 

He gets in the car with Ronan, who drives as fast and as far away from Aglionby Academy as possible. He stops by Monmouth to pick up Chainsaw and drives for a couple of hours. He parks the car at the beginning of a large, green field with rows and rows of crops and long grass. 

Ronan steps out of the car, tucks Chainsaw into the pocket of his hoodie and Adam follows him as he steps into the field. They walk quietly for a couple of minutes before Ronan sits down, almost disappearing in between all the grass.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much green in my life,” Adam says, looking around him. His eyes almost hurt because of how bright everything is. 

Ronan just hums, lets Chainsaw out of his pocket and tangles his hand with Adam’s. He slowly pulls him down so that Adam’s sitting next to him, their bodies touching from shoulders to elbows.

Ronan slowly lies down, closing his eyes against the dimming sunlight, “I grew up here…” 

“Here?” Adam looks around.

Ronan points in a vague direction, “Barn house over there…” Adam looks at the vague direction he was pointing, “Brother still lives here.”

Adam lies down next to him, on his stomach, held up by his elbows, so that he’s looking down at Ronan. He listens to wind, the quiet sounds of rustling, imagines that Chainsaw’s jumping on the tall grass somewhere to their right, “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Ronan scoffs, “I have two… A useless one, and Matthew.” He blinks up at Adam slowly, “You’d like Matthew.” He slowly traces his finger over Adam’s brow and Adam closes his eyes.

Adam folds his arms and lays the unbruised side of his face against his arm, “I don’t have any siblings,” He says, because he doesn’t know how to say: _I grew up_ so _alone._

Ronan seems to understand though, because he pulls himself against Adam and wraps his arm around his waist. 

He tucks his face against Adam’s ribs and breathes. 

*

Adam had always known Ronan to be violent, his mouth quick and fists even quicker.

But now, as they lay between the tall grass, hours after the sun had gone down, Ronan’s touches are soft as he draws patterns against Adam’s forearms. His voice hushed and quiet as he tells Adam about his brothers, his mother, about his childhood and the games he’d played amongst the tall grass and apple trees. 

His voice only gets loud when Chainsaw comes back with a bird in her mouth.

“Chainsaw, you fucking dick,” He says as he grabs the back of her neck and gently — gently — takes the bird out.

Adam watches Ronan’s fingers — once a threat, but now so _gentle —_ as they slowly check the bird over, spreading its wings and checking for injury.

He lets the bird go and just as Chainsaw gets ready to leap again he grabs her, “No, you don’t, you little shit.” He says as he holds her down with one hand and uses the other to dig into his pocket for pellets of dry cat food. He puts a few down on the ground, which is enough to distract the cat.

“Fucking idiot,” Ronan says, running a finger down her spine as she eats.

His heart is thundering in his chest and he looks at Ronan and wonders how it took him so long to fucking _see_ him.

Ronan is just looking up as Adam shuffles closer and grabs at Ronan’s shoulders, pressing his mouth against Ronan’s.

“What—” Ronan says, but Adam is already moving closer, swinging his leg over to straddle him while Ronan laughs.

“Just let me—” Adam says, his lips bushing against Ronan’s, “Just let me."

Ronan just pushes his hands against Adam’s waist, holds him tight, and he lets him do whatever he wants. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please leave a comment!  
> On tumblr as [ tommy-fics! ](https://tommy-fics.tumblr.com)


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